


The Golden Chapel

by Heronfem



Series: Author's Favorites [4]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Haikyuu!!
Genre: (More like myth retelling but there's no tag for that SO), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arthurian, Fae Magic, Fairy Tale Retellings, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Blood, Temptation, The Green Knight retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: Arms and the man I sing,—not as of oldThe Mantuan bard his mighty verse unrolled,But in such humbler strains as may beseemLight changes rung on a fantastic theme.Or, a Knight comes in search of the Golden Chapel to finish his quest. The Chapel's guardians and trial makers finish theirs as well.





	The Golden Chapel

The knight comes to them late in the spring- right on time for the wheel of the year to turn. He's a tall, spindly thing, his shield colors black and red with a rampant white cat, his armor dented from questing but still inky black. His squire is with him, dressed all in black as well, pale yellow hair turning golden in the sun. They ride well loved horses, weary with travel.

The fields of wheat are ripe from an unusually hot start to summer, the castle walls stand tall. Keiji sits at the window, and watches his husband stride up to the knight and call his welcome, surcoat floating in the wind. His eyes are the same color as the wheat, brilliant in the sunlight, his hair wild and upright as he slaps the knight's back and takes his horses reins. Keiji knows the questions the knight must be asking, from where he sits. He doesn't read lips, but the questions are often the same. 

_Do you know the date?_

_It's four days from the summer solstice!_

_Do you know where to find the Golden Chapel? I have business there._

_It's not a half days ride away_ , Koutarou will tell him. _Please- stay, and spend the nights here until you must go to the Chapel. We'd be happy to have guests_!

Keiji stitches careful embroidery as his husband leads Knight and Squire to Castle Fukurodani. The sunlight from the window paints his skin into gold as well, and the golden belt on the ledge glints mirror bright.

oOo

The knight is Kuroo Tetsurou, a good and sturdy name for a good and sturdy knight. His squire is Tsukishima Kei, and a prickly young man who keeps to himself and eats little. Keiji rather likes them. Kuroo immediately takes to Bokuto, and they laugh together as if they're old friends over the evening's wine and dinner. Komi plucks out a tune on a well loved lute, and Konoha manages to urge a dance from Keiji. Tsukishima is dragged onto the floor by one of the serving girls as well, and joins them. It's a pleasant evening, all told, with good food and good drink. When the fire is burned down to a comfortable heat and everyone's laughing and joking together as the tables are cleared, Kuroo and Bokuto are still chatting. Keiji despairs a little, but can't find it in himself to be concerned or upset. They're getting along famously.

“Here,” Bokuto says cheerfully to their guest as Keiji steals food off of his plate, “how about a game?”

“A game?” Kuroo props his chin in his hands, grinning. “I like games. What is it?”

“For the next three days, I'm going hunting,” Bokuto tells him. “Whatever game I catch, I'll give to you. And whatever you capture here, you give to me at the end of the day.”

Kuroo's eyebrows raise, intrigued. “I feel like this might be a bit of a lopsided game, my lord.”

“Nonsense,” Bokuto says cheerfully, grinning at him. “C'mon, indulge me!”

“Alright. You have a deal.” 

Keiji drinks his wine, flavored with the sweetness of honey, and doesn't miss how Bokuto's eyes flash to him in apology. Tsukishima, being hassled by Onaga and Komi, misses the look.

oOo

The sun rises and is well above the tree line when Bokuto and the retinue bring out the horses and their boar spears, and Keiji goes to see them off at the gate. Tsukishima is nowhere to be seen, but Kuroo and Bokuto are happily chatting together as Onaga, Sarukui, and Washio watch and Konoha mutters curses under his breath while fixing his gelding's saddle. Bokuto spots him approaching and bolts over to him, Keiji stopping so that they don't crash together over much.

“I'm off!” Bokuto sings out, scooping Keiji up in his arms and swinging him around. Keiji can't quite help his smile, and when his feet touch the ground again he leans up to kiss his husband sweetly. Bokuto swings him into a dip, making him grab his shoulder to stay balanced, and laughs when he pulls them back upright. “I'm sorry, Akaashi, I'll only be gifting things to Kuroo today!”

“However will I survive,” Keiji says dryly, and kisses his cheek once more before stepping back. 

Kuroo's grinning, and clasps Bokuto on the shoulder. “Good hunting, friend. Bring me back something amazing.”

“Of course I will!” Bokuto says, launching himself onto his horse and settling in the saddle. Konoha grins where he's leaning on the pommel, Komi rolling his eyes. “I'm an excellent hunter!”

“I'm certain you are,” Kuroo says, and is still smiling as the five wheel their horses and head for the gate. Keiji walks to him, sighing as the gates close. 

“Please don't mind him,” Keiji tells him as Kuroo looks to him. He smiles, and notices how Kuroo's eyes trace over his face and neck. _Nobility_. Well bred men always go for the throat, so eager in their urge to subdue. “We rarely have guests, and my husband is easily excited.”

Kuroo smiles, and when it's not a smirk it truly is a nice smile. “I've noticed. It's no bad thing, though. He's nice.”

Keiji can't quite help his own smile, twitching up the corner of his mouth. “He is. Come, walk with me.”

“I can hardly refuse,” Kuroo says, with an easy smile. He offers his arm, and Keiji takes it with a quiet smile. 

“You must have spent a great deal of time on the road,” Keiji says, his arm in Kuroo's as they stroll into the center of the castle and Keiji's favorite hideaway. The garden is in full bloom, the flowers alive and well. Keiji would tend to them, were he allowed, but their gardener is fiercely protective of the flowers and the cherry tree that blossoms in the corner of the yard. The roses are magnificent, the bushes tall and fat with enormous flowers, and the carefully trained boughs of wisteria trail down to brush their heads and shoulders as they pass through trellis of it.

“We did. Nearly a year, from the last Summer Solstice. I do wonder if it was longer, though,” Kuroo says, looking up at the clear blue sky once they emerge from under the wisteria. 

“Oh?” 

Keiji directs them to a bench in the garden, and they sit together. 

Kuroo clasps his hands together, looking over the beautiful flowers. “I believe at some points we may have crossed into the Other Lands. I've... been there before. On a different quest. Time passes strangely there. So I don't really know if it's been near a year, or if it's been far longer than that. We've passed through the seasons, though it seemed to me that winter lasted an eternity. I don't know how long it's been.”

“Well, it's the end of spring now,” Keiji says, leaning back against the bench. “What waits for you, at the Golden Chapel?”

Kuroo's eyes are somber as he stares out into the distance. “I can't say that I know. Death, maybe; or perhaps a new and uncertain future. I have a curious relationship with the knight that guards the Chapel.”

“Is that so?”

Kuroo looks at him sidelong. “I tried to kill him. Emphasis on the tried. He came to challenge my king and I stepped up in his stead. The world can't be without him, it will still turn without me. Even if there are a few people who pretend differently. He told me that I got one swing at him, and that he'd return any cut made in a years time. I cut off his head thinking that without it he'd have a hard time killing me, and he plucked it back off of the ground and carried on as if nothing had happened. So, I think, I go to face my death. But who knows, when it comes to Fae.”

Keiji watches as his gardener toils below the boughs of the cherry tree, eternally in bloom. His brown hair is littered with flower petals, his soft teal tunic stained with dirt. “You're an interesting man, Sir Tetsurou.”

“Kuroo, please, Lord Akaashi. I rarely use my given name.” Kuroo grimaces, and Keiji grants him a smile. 

“Sir Kuroo, then.”

Kuroo snorts, shaking his head. “You can be quite contrary.”

“Indeed,” Keiji says with the serenity of an Abbot, not quite able to hide his smile. “I'm told it's endearing.”

“I question who's telling you that, _my lord_.” 

Keiji chuckles, brushing his hair back behind his ears. He's let it grow long, it's far overdue a cut. The waves are growing wild. “I have the feeling, Sir Kuroo, that you're just as contrary as I am when the occasion permits. I think you're just like the device on your shield- a cat, as comfortable in sunning himself as he is in battle.”

“How easily you size me up, Lord Akaashi!” Kuroo puts a hand to his chest as if wounded, but he's smiling. 

Keiji chuckles, smoothing his tunic down. “Am I wrong?”

“Would I tell you if you were right?” Kuroo counters, and Keiji smiles. 

“I think you've answered my question quite well, Sir Cat,” he says, and stands up. Kuroo follows, several inches taller when he rises. Bokuto isn't small, but Kuroo is even taller than him. Keiji wants to roll his eyes at all these ridiculously tall men in his life. “I've had a warm bath drawn for you and your squire. We're lucky enough to have a hot springs that bubbles up not far from here, and with some interesting engineering we have warm baths within the castle, now. Your things will be laundered and mended in the meantime.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Hospitality is something we are rarely able to give,” Keiji says, leading him back into the keep, “so I may be overcompensating. We live quiet lives, here. Sometimes knights pass through, sometimes bards, sometimes just travelers. But the baths are well kept and available to all.”

They walk through the keep and out to the bathhouse, a sturdy building with several small rooms with pools inside. They're especially nice for soaking in the winter, and do make doing the laundry much easier. Kuroo is clearly delighted, and Keiji points him to the room where he might leave his things while bathing and have them laundered. He does so, taking his leave, and once the door is closed Keiji snaps his fingers. The tunic he wears becomes a simple wrapping robe, tied at the waist and made of fine red cotton with black trim. Kuroo's colors look excellent on him, he notes, and when Kuroo comes through the door in a plain white robe of his own, Keiji smiles. 

Keiji lets his robe fall, far from body shy, and Kuroo immediately backs away. Despite himself, Keiji is charmed. He steps into the water, noting the flush high on Kuroo's cheeks and how he keeps his eyes turned away.

“Come now,” Keiji says once he's dunked himself in the water and emerged again, picking up some of the gentle soap and running it over his shoulders and arms. “Join me.”

“I'd rather not, my lord.”

Keiji rinses off, taking his time with a bit of glamour and letting the water sparkle in the torch and sunlight. Kuroo clearly has no idea what to do, standing there like an awkward duck. Keiji sighs, relaxing in the warmth of the water.

“The water is wonderfully warm,” Keiji says, a bit goading. “I'm nothing you haven't seen before, Sir Kuroo.”

“No, you're nothing I've seen before,” Kuroo mutters, still firmly turned away. “And I'd like to keep it that way.”

Keiji laughs, delighted. “And why not? Am I not to your tastes?” 

“It's hardly right for me to put my eyes, let alone hands, on someone that belongs to someone else,” Kuroo says, physically turning away. 

“Bokuto does not own me, any more than I own him,” Keiji says, slipping closer through the water. Kuroo inches away, and Keiji hides the delight that wells up within him. _Maybe..._

“All the same, Lord Akaashi,” Kuroo says, keeping his eyes firmly on the other wall. “I find myself very uncomfortable with this. You aren't the only one with a partner, after all. The most I would give you is a kiss, nothing more- and a kiss meant only as appreciation to my host.”

Keiji is very pleased. 

“Very well,” he says, injecting a note of disappointment into his voice as he climbs from the bath and rings a small bell. A page scurries forward from the side room with a towel and fresh robe for him. “I'll leave you to your bath, Sir Kuroo. There are excellent scented oils on the table there, should you want them. But I shall give you that kiss before I go.”

Kuroo is very still as he approaches, and jolts in surprise when all Keiji does is kiss the corner of his lips; a parody of intimacy, a mockery of what he's implied.

He leaves the room with a smile on his face, and doesn't miss the sigh of frustrated relief as the door shuts behind him.

The page glamour melts away to reveal Konoha, who smirks as Keiji flicks his hair back over his shoulders. It's getting terribly long. “He's been alone on the road for some time. That was terribly cruel.”

“But necessary,” Keiji says, brushing down his robe and smiling as he touches his lips. “I like him. In another life, I think we would have made excellent friends.”

Konoha laughs, the sound bouncing off the walls, and escorts him back to his chambers.

oOo

Bokuto comes home with a massive boar and a brace of hares, and presents them to Kuroo with an easy laugh and a smile.

Kuroo makes light conversation, saying he cannot return the gifts of food and drink and sleep and a bath. Keiji catches his breath, wondering if Kuroo will lie, but no. He steps forward, catching Bokuto's face in his hand, and kisses him full on the mouth before stepping back. Bokuto laughs, delighted, and drags him off to dinner. Keiji sighs in relief, smiling, and catches Tsukishima watching him from near the wall with narrowed eyes. 

Keiji hides his smile, inclining his head to the suspicious squire, and vanishes into the castle to change for dinner.

oOo

Keiji and Kuroo see Bokuto and the hunters off under the noon sun again, and Kuroo hesitates once the gates are closed, uncertain of what to do.

“Walk with me, Kuroo,” Keiji says, already walking away and knowing Kuroo will follow. He does, if reluctantly, and they climb up the ramparts in silence until they stand atop the castle walls and can watch the hunters riding away. 

Kuroo leans on the battlements, dressed only in plain black hose, boots, and a loose white shirt with his sword on its belt around his waist. A silver chain hangs from his neck, gleaming in the sun. He is terribly handsome, despite his wild hair, and it isn't a stretch to see why he is so well loved. Keiji has heard plenty of tales of Sir Tetsurou's exploits from bards that find their way into their quiet little castle. The man himself lives up to all of them. 

The chain swings back and forth with the breeze, hypnotic.

“An interesting choice of jewelry,” Keiji says, and Kuroo reaches up to touch it. 

“It was a gift. A very precious gift. I'm never without it.”

“A token, then, from your lady?” Keiji asks. 

Kuroo's eyes flash slightly, and he looks away. “No. From my lord.”

Keiji looks at the silver chain, clearly of fine and delicate craftsmanship. “And what a devoted pair you both must be, for him to put such an elegant collar around your neck. It is very fine and delicate work that your lord has gifted you.”

Kuroo reaches up, running his finger along the links of it. “I wonder, sometimes, if it's merely a courtly love that he's given it to me; nothing more than a token to show that I belong to him, though he's not mine. And other times, I don't wonder at all that I am his and he is mine in our entirety, though I might never put rings on his finger or braid flowers into his hair. I'd follow him to the ends of the world if he asked. Is that strange?”

Keiji's chest aches with the soft pain at the last sentence, and shakes his head. The wind tousles his hair, and he tucks it back behind his ear. “No. I think not. There are days when I wonder if I am nothing but a diversion to keep my Lord's attention, and others when he spends the time doing nothing so much as praising my very existence to the heavens. I think it is deeply human, to fear being left behind by those we love in favor of other, more interesting pursuits. But what is love, if not a series of decisions made over and and over again, day after day? Is that not far better than the momentary flash of an aching heart and desire; to choose, again and again, to be interlocked together in a most complex design?”

The wheat fields beyond the castle walls become waves with the wind, golden and shimmering in the summer sun. Keiji looks to Kuroo, whose eyes have gone wide as he stares at him. 

Kuroo's eyes are the same gold as the sun, he notices for the first time, and Keiji steps towards him. 

“This world is a strange and complex place,” Keiji says, taking Kuroo's face in his hands. “Forgive me my honesty. I think I'll miss you, when you've gone.” 

He kisses him once, softly, the barest brush of lips, and walks away.

Kuroo remains on the ramparts. He does not follow.

Keiji does not look back.

His lips burn as if he's touched iron, and crack when he runs his tongue over them to whet them. It stings of a solemn sort of sadness. They bleed for hours after, and drip onto the cloth he's embroidering to ruin the pattern.

oOo

As promised, Bokuto returns from the hunt with a fine trio of stags, which the cook immediately takes to skin and begin cooking for dinner.

As promised, Kuroo gives him what he's been gifted that day- A single kiss, light, with a touch of remorse. Tsukishima's eyes darken when Kuroo kisses him, but Bokuto laughs and jokes about how Kuroo must tell him which of the servants he's ensnared. Kuroo only smiles, a bit strained, and tells him that he can hardly do so, maintaining his integrity. Keiji eats little that evening, mouth tender. 

Keiji waits in their bedchamber after dinner, looking out of the open frosted glass windows at the fields beyond. He's spent months with the others tending to them, working the soil into his once fine hands until they grew callused and strong. The peasants who live in-between worlds refer to them as the Gentle Lords, knowing their true natures, and have been kind to them the past six years they've been here. He's grown to love Castle Fukurodani, and those who call her home. All the same, he wonders what lies beyond her boundaries; how vast the world is, outside of the cage that they are trapped in.

He's thrown from his introspection as Koutarou walks through the door and locks it behind him, going to his side and kneeling beside his chair to kiss the back of his hand. 

“One more day,” he says, and it's gentle. Keiji closes his eyes, feeling tears start to fall. “One more day, Keiji, and then he goes to the Chapel.”

“I know,” Keiji says, his voice catching on a sob. “I know.”

Koutarou bundles him into his arms, holding him close. It has been a terribly cruel year, a long and bitter one, and Keiji is so tired. 

“What I would give,” he says into Koutarou's shoulder, “for one honorable man. What I would give for someone to _finally_ pass the tests and set us free. I'm so tired, love. So very tired. We've been giving trials for so long. I just want to live our lives in peace, not wondering if we're taking some foolish human to their death.”

“I know, Keiji,” Koutarou says, kissing his temple. “I know.”

He carries Keiji to their bed, and divests him of his robe. Keiji pulls him down to hold him close, the blankets covering them to muffle the sounds of the rest of the world. Koutarou holds him as though he were the finest glass, and sleep claims him as silence falls over the castle.

oOo

“A moment, if you would,” Keiji says when he catches Kuroo in the afternoon of the third day. Tsukishima is with him and looks utterly annoyed, but Kuroo takes a breath and nods.

“Of course, Lord Akaashi.”

Keiji leads him into his solar, and gestures Kuroo to a seat. He takes it warily, but takes it none the less. Keiji closes the shutters, leaving them only with the torchlight of the room for vision. His solar is small, more of a sitting room than anything, but it holds his loom and a few chairs, a cupboard with fine carvings and a few little chests. It's comfortable, and all his. One of the perks of husbandry, as Komi jokes.

“You told my husband you had business with the Golden Knight of the Chapel,” Keiji says, turning to his guest. Kuroo nods, yellow eyes fixed on him. “He is a fearsome man, the Golden Knight. Powerful. Dangerous. Those who go to see him never return alive.”

“I'm aware.”

Keiji goes to a chest in the corner of the room, lifting the lid and removing its contents. He carries the belt to Kuroo, and gives it to him.

It is a long belt, the kind in style among the more continental knights, one to be knotted and let hang. It could last a man a lifetime in its size. The silk covering the top is gold, the fittings for the buckle and end cap gold as well. It gleams in the torchlight, held in Kuroo's hands, his pale skin turned sickly white against its brilliance. 

“I've had it for some time,” Keiji says quietly, watching him turn it back and forth. It's backed in supple white leather, tooled with intricate designs to be paced against the skin. “It's magic, something out of the Other Lands, likely once Fae in nature. It turns you invulnerable as long as you wear it. No spear will pierce you, no sword hit you, no wound can be made upon you as long as it's clasped around you. You'll be unkillable by anything but age.”

Kuroo stares at it as it hangs in his hands. 

“Please take it,” Keiji says quietly, closing Kuroo's hands over the leather. “Please. You have been here only a few days, but I find myself very endeared of you. My lord is as well.”

“Thank you,” Kuroo says, just as quiet, and runs his fingers over the fine silk. His fingers are long, well cared for but clearly have been broken a few different times. They're warriors hands, that of a defender of the realm, callused and beaten but still strong. Bokuto's hands were never quite like this- he favored the spear, the javelin, the lance. Sword and shield were Kuroo's weapons, building a unique set of imprints upon his body after years of work with them. 

Keiji bends, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. A farewell to a friend, light and gentle, nothing more. 

“In the event that I don't get to see you off,” he says, and Kuroo nods. 

Keiji goes to the windows and opens the shutters again, looking out over his little castle and the fields beyond. 

“I am glad, that you came to this place when it's at its best,” Keiji says, and Kuroo joins him at the window. He can see farmers toiling, servants playing with hounds in the courtyard, a fat cat sunning herself in the sunshine on the steps of the keep. It's all so very domestic, a simple reflection of smile lives doing small things in a quiet place. Keiji loves it, more than he could ever possibly say. “It's a small place, our Fukurodani, but it's become my home. She is beautiful in her simplicity, warm in her embrace. I hope you will not forget us, in the coming times.”

“Lord Akaashi,” Kuroo says, his voice soft, “I would find it difficult to ever forget you or your lord.”

Keiji sighs, leaning on the windowsill. “What a strange and complex world we live in.”

“Indeed.”

They stand together in silence for a while, watching the quiet beauty of the summer. Kuroo bows, in time, and takes his leave in silence. Keiji watches out the window until he thinks that Kuroo will have had time to reach his chambers, and goes to fetch the mirror polished bowl he keeps in a cupboard. He fills it with clear water from a pitcher, taking care not to splash the sides. This done, Keiji waves a hand over the scrying bowl, settling back in his chair to listen in on the conversation.

“-saved, then,” Tsukishima is saying, with relief. “Just wear the belt and you'll be fine. Take the blow and you're free.”

“You're forgetting one thing.” Kuroo, now, his voice low and quietly concerned.

“What?”

“My deal with Lord Bokuto.”

There's a pause, before Tsukishima says with acid in his tone, “You want to give up your one chance at surviving this little jaunt we've been enjoying because you want to give it to our dimwit host?”

“He's not a fool, Kei, he's just thinks about things a different way.”

Kuroo has just endeared himself to Keiji for all of time. He leans his chin in his hand, listening with a little smile on his face.

“Fair enough,” Tsukishima mutters, sounding apologetic. “But still. It's a _game_. This is the choice between life and death.”

“Maybe I could just... give him the belt and then ask for it back?”

From the silence, Keiji is relatively certain of the look that Tsukishima is giving his master. 

“What if he recognizes it?” Tsukishima says, his voice sharp. “You think he's going to give it back when he finds out his husband's been calling on you and he's the one who's been leaving you with kisses to give to Bokuto?”

“I can see your point.”

Tsukishima sighs. “Well, which do you hate more? Breaking your word, or dying?”

There's a low silence, and Keiji listens intently.

“I don't know,” Kuroo says at last, his voice soft. “I've never done either.”

Keiji ends the spell, and goes to dress for dinner.

oOo

Bokuto returns from his hunt dejected, nothing to show for the day but a lack of arrows.

“Some days the dragon wins,” Kuroo says, cajoling him and picking up his mood. Keiji is pleased that Kuroo seems to genuinely like Bokuto, and leans against the doorway as Bokuto complains about clever rabbits escaping from him and Kuroo gently teases him. They eat dinner together, Keiji kissing his husbands temple before letting his new friend fluster him with clever worded jokes and laughter.

Tsukishima watches his master from the other table, and Keiji eats quietly. He knows what Tsukishima thinks of them. People see his smiling, laughing husband, easily distracted and cheerful as the day is long as a simpleton. And he is simple, in some respects. He's a straightforward man, with a round-about way of thinking. They think that Keiji must not be satisfied, to go chasing after visiting knights. Nothing could be further from the truth. Bokuto sees everything within his domain, and Keiji is nothing if not honest with his love. Bokuto is not prone to jealousy, and Keiji is not prone to provoking it. Tsukishima has made a fatal mistake, to judge them as such a simple pair. 

“I don't have anything for you today,” Bokuto says, when his mood's been restored. “What about you?”

Kuroo catches his face once more in his hands, and kisses him sweetly. 

He does not tell him of the belt, and Keiji considers the uncertain future as his lips crack and bleed once more.

oOo

The sun rises on the fourth day.

Konoha helps him dress for the day, helping him assemble his waves into something presentable and fetching a fine long tunic of spun gold cloth and clever golden embroidery, with black and white hose to accompany it. He hangs a long golden chain around his shoulders, one of state, an owl pendant hanging from it. 

“Say nothing,” Keiji says when Konoha opens his mouth. “Let's not invite tragedy. Today will be the day, or it will not.”

Konoha nods, and together they walk out to the balcony above the gate to watch the departure. Tsukishima and Kuroo ride out of the gates with Bokuto to lead. Bokuto and Kuroo turn to wave, Tsukishima keeping his eyes dead ahead, and Keiji waves them away. Once they've vanished into the treeline and out of view, he walks with Konoha down to the stables. His gelding is saddled, standing quiet with the gold, white, and black panoply along his sides. Keiji swings into the saddle with ease, settling and taking the reins.

“Don't ride him too hard, my lord.” Konoha strokes his horses neck, and Keiji gives him a look.

“I should think I know how to ride, after so many years together,” he says tartly, and Konoha chuckles. 

“Of course.” He takes Keiji's hand and presses his forehead to the back of it. “Travel safely, my lord.”

Keiji nods, running a hand over his friends hair, and urges the gelding into a trot. He leaves the gate and clicks his tongue, and the horse falls into an easy lope. The ground flies away, golden wheat becoming a blur as he rides to the Chapel. 

It's not far, only two miles if you know the way, and he arrives there shortly. Koutarou is there as well, glamoured to appear as the fierce Gold Knight. Keiji dismounts and kisses him lightly before taking his horse to the hidden corral behind a glamour and some natural trees where Koutarou's own stallion is grazing. He sends takes the saddle and puts it on the rails of the corral, leaving the bridle on, and goes to join his husband in waiting. He's collected his massive battle ax from within the Chapel, and is preparing a grindstone. A stump sits before him, littered with cuts of years passed.

It's not much of a chapel in the eyes of most, but Keiji walked the mortal realm when it was considered an excellent one. A cave, mid sized, with markings leftover from when druids came to worship; the Golden Chapel is now fully covered in a carpet of golden flowers. The meadow beyond is full of wild wheat, golden in the sun, and there's straw strewn about the ground before the Chapel to soak up blood. The stones aren't grey, but tan limestone, making the whole place seem bigger and lighter than it is. It's an old kind of sacred. 

Koutarou pulls him in to kiss him once more, his eyes soft as the glamour melts away. 

“He'll be here soon,” Koutarou says. “I told him the whole way here that nothing magical will stop the axe, but who knows what he'll do about it.”

“You're upset,” Keiji says, stroking his cheek.

“Of course I'm upset!” Koutarou wails, nuzzling against his temple. “He's so nice, and so fun! I like this one a lot, Keiji!”

“I'm sorry, my lord.” Keiji kisses his cheek, heart aching a little. “But it's not done yet. He might yet pass the trial. We have room within the rules laid out, after all.”

“At least he didn't sleep with you,” Koutarou grumbles, and Keiji can't quite help his smile. 

“You would have killed him the first night if he had,” he says, and kisses his husband once more just for the pleasure of it. “Besides, those past fools couldn't tell the difference between me and a Casting- it's a miracle those ones made it to us anyway, and I don't feel bad about their failures. Kuroo didn't kiss me back even once.”

“I kissed back,” Koutarou tells him somberly. “He's very good.”

Keiji's lips twitch as he tries to control his smile. “I have no doubt.”

“He's terribly pretty,” Koutarou says, sounding vexed. “Shouldn't he have more fancy scars and things? It's not fair.”

Keiji smiles, patting his cheek. “I'm certain their healer is very good.”

“He must be,” Koutarou says. He tilts his head, a pointed ear twitching. “They're coming.”

Keiji kisses him one last time, and melts into the trees. He pulls the glamour over himself as Bokuto picks up the axe and starts the grindstone for the look of it. The glamour of the Golden Knight is a good one, the knight enormous in size with a hideous and wicked sort of face. Keiji had helped Bokuto design it, and he's been pleased with the outcome of it.

Tsukishima and Kuroo ride around the corner and upon the Chapel, and Kuroo dismounts. He's in his black armor, his lords necklace tucked deep beneath it. 

“Welcome,” the Golden Knight says, keeping the axe to the grindstone. “A year to the day, and you've come to see me in my own court. You've kept your word.”

Kuroo tucks his gloves in his belt, eyes dark. “I said I would.”

“So you did. Well?”

“Well, what?”

The Golden Knight gestures to the stump. “Come on, then. Take off your helm, and put your head to the stump. And be sure you don't give any less of a smile than I did! Turn about is fair play.”

Kuroo pulls his helm off, Tsukishima dismounting and taking it from him. Kuroo squeezes his hand, one last goodbye, and with his face a cheerful rictus of a smile walks to the stump. He kneels, placing his head upon it, and the Golden Knight smiles as well as he picks up the axe and tests the edge. He whistles tunelessly, and Keiji winces at the way a muscle in Kuroo's cheek jumps and he clenches his teeth. Still whistling, the Golden Knight lifts the axe up, and swings down hard and fast. At the last second, he pulls it, leaving it just a few inches above Kuroo's bare neck. Kuroo's shoulders shivered a bit, and his smile faded.

“Is this the great Kuroo Testsurou,” the Golden Knight mocks, laying the axe flat on his back to keep him still. “Giantslayer, Iron-named, Grand Knight of Defense, eldest son of the Orkneys and beloved of the King? Are you really him, when you sit there and flinch away from the blade? I don't think I twitched when you sliced off my head.”

“My apologies,” Kuroo grinds out. There's no smile on his face now, but he holds still. Tsukishima's hands are clenched at his sides as he watches. 

The Golden Knight swings down once more, this time burying the axe deep in the stump. Kuroo jumps to his feet, teeth bared in a snarl, and the Golden Knight laughs.

“Found your nerve again, Sir Tetsurou?” he asks mockingly, yanking the axe free. “Good! Let's finish this now, in case it runs from you again. One more time, let's see if you can uphold the honor of Camelot's court here in mine.”

Kuroo is breathing hard, hands clenched tight, but he kneels one last time and places his head once more upon the stump. This time, neither of them have any sort of smile to their faces. Tsukishima clutches Kuroo's helm, lips pressed tight together as the Golden Knight raises his axe. 

The stump quakes as the axe is lodged within it, the sound of the chop echoing against the trees on the edge of the meadow. Kuroo rolls off the stump, neck bloodied, and for a moment Keiji's heart stops. But Kuroo springs to his feet, pulling his sword from its scabbard as his eyes go wild with determination to live. Across the back of his neck is a long, shallow cut, deep enough to scar but not deep enough to injure. The edge of the Golden Knights axe is wet with his blood. 

“You don't get a forth try,” Kuroo snarls, hand tight around his sword. The line of blood is a brilliant red against the fairness of his skin, garish in the golden light of day. “I took your one blow, and if you want another, it'll be matched!”

“I've fulfilled my end of the bargain,” the Golden Knight says, slinging the axe over his shoulder. “I offered you a blow, and I gave you a blow. The rest of my rights I forfeit.”

Keiji can't quite help his smile from within the woods. 

They're close; today may yet be the day they find themselves freed.

“Rights?” Kuroo demands, blood dripping from his neck. The line is thin but long, stretching all the way across the back. It will certainly scar. “What other rights do you have?”

“Plenty!” The Golden Knight smiles, swinging the axe in an easy circle before letting it rest point-first on the ground.

“I can't see how,” Kuroo says.

“Can't you? The first stroke, I feinted, because the first night you kept our bargain,” the Golden Knight says, and Keiji sees the blood drain from Tsukishima's face. “The second stroke I missed completely, because once again you kept your word. But you half-failed the third time, my friend, and you deserved more than the hit I gave you. Or did you think that my lovely husband wouldn't have told me about the golden girdle he have you on the third day?”

Kuroo's face goes still, his eyes no long fixing on Bokuto's glamoured form. He drops his sword, letting it fall into the golden straw. Keiji watches as Kuroo fumbles his breastplate off, Tsukishima rushing forward to help drag his maille and tunic over his head to reveal the golden belt against his skin. His face is twisted with bitter disappointment as he rips it from his body, letting it fall to the ground. The golden meadow around them seem to hum as he stands there, chest bare, the silver chain around his neck all that remains as blood drips down his chest. Tsukishima's face is twisted with alarm and his own shame, looking between the form of the Knight and Kuroo.

“Here is the girdle, and may it forever be cursed. I've shamed my name,” Kuroo says, falling back to his knees and looking at the gold before him. “I thought to be able to see the face of my partner once more, at the price of my honor. I've failed myself, him, and your hospitality. Please, you've got every right. I will pay the price.”

Tsukishima closes his eyes, clearly bracing himself as Kuroo lowers his head to the stump once more. 

The Golden Knight throws down the axe, and Kuroo's shoulders jolt but he doesn't so much as twitch his head. 

“Oh, my friend,” Bokuto says gently, letting the glamour fall away. “It isn't worth it, to die over such a small thing. Everyone thinks life is precious- it's hard to walk yourself to the slaughter, when you have those you love waiting behind you. I ask no more of you, I've received what I've been owed. But all the same, shame is not something to be washed away so easily.”

Kuroo stiffens, Tsukishima stumbling backwards with wide eyes as Bokuto picks up the belt. Keiji steps out of the woods, walking to his husbands side as Bokuto pulls Kuroo to his feet. Kuroo's eyes are wide, looking him over and over again in dawning horror. Keiji stops at his side, letting Bokuto wrap an arm around his waist and leaning against him. He smiles all the same, pleased that Kuroo has made it through the test. Kuroo stares at him, mouth parting a little as if to say something before looking back to Bokuto.

“Here is your mark of shame,” Bokuto says, handing him the belt. “Like the wound on your neck, this is a badge of this test. It'll be lighter in time, but your memory of it will never fade. Wear it well. You sacrificed your word and your honor at the price of returning to another's life- now, you must learn to live for the sake of yourself.”

“A badge of failure?” Kuroo asks, looking down at the girdle.

“Failure is easy,” Bokuto tells him, not without sympathy. “This is a badge of shame.”

Tsukishima steps forward, jaw clenched. His eyes are wide still, looking between Bokuto and Keiji, and Keiji knows he's thinking of each kiss. The stories from Camelot and questing bards say that Kuroo is a master of provocation, but Keiji has beaten him at his own game and Tsukishima had taken every piece of the bait offered.

“I convinced him,” Tsukishima blurts out, hands clenched. “I was the one who told him not to give it back. I was the one who dismissed you, I was the one who insisted he keep the belt so he could fight him instead.”

Kuroo squeezes his shoulder, shaking his head. “But I was the one who listened,” he says.

Keiji plucks the owl from his chains of state, and Bokuto picks up straw from the ground. It turns to a golden chain in his hands, and Keiji slips the little pendant onto it. 

“A badge of shame for you, as well,” he says, and loops it over Tsukishima's head. “May you always remember to take care with the advice you give, and make certain that your eyes aren't clouded with your personal perception of others. The words you say have weight, no matter who you say them to.”

Tsukishima touches the owl, expression twisted to bitterness, and Kuroo loops the belt around his waist. 

Wind rushes through the little meadow, and Keiji looks up at the sky. It's perfectly blue, not a cloud in sight, and he closes his eyes as he feels their tethers break. Bokuto lets out a shaky sigh, kissing his forehead as the wind picks up and wraps around them a few more times before falling away with the echo of a sigh. Keiji always thought it would be more grand, to be freed, but finds that this is perfect. Bokuto's lips linger against Keiji's skin, and when he finally steps away from his husband his chest feels light. 

“Not many pass the trials set before them,” Keiji tells Kuroo. His smile has gone soft. “You're a good man, Kuroo Tetsurou. And it's time that you went home.”

He claps his hands together, the sound booming through the trees and the meadow as the magic rushes up within him and finds its anchors right where he wants them. The archway of the Golden Chapel becomes a portal, the edges ridged in blue.

“Come,” Keiji tells them, and leads the way. He steps through the portal hand in hand with Bokuto, and a young man in a simple red robe scrambles to his feet, yellow eyes wide with alarm. Kuroo tumbles through the portal with Tsukishima after him, his eyes going wide at the sight of the young man.

“Kenma,” Kuroo breathes, and falls at his lord's feet on the stone floor. 

They're in a castle bedroom, the white stones and shining blue roof out of the window revealing it to be nothing less than Camelot herself. It's a comfortable room, covered in plush pillows and soft chairs in shades of red and gold, and a pair of obviously spoiled cats are snoozing in the window. They seem utterly unconcerned by the portal in the doorway, and promptly go back to sleep.

Kozume Kenma looks between them all. Keiji and Bokuto bow low, and when they straighten he sees that Kozume has understood what's occurred.

“You're Fae,” he says bluntly. Kozume moves between them and Kuroo, physically shielding him with his body. He's human, fully human, but his eyes have cat pupils that mark him as fae-touched. Keiji catches a glimpse of a ball of flame extinguishing from his hand, the other grasping at Kuroo's shoulder as if to reassure himself he's there. “What was this? A test?”

“Of a sort,” Keiji says, taking Bokuto's hands. “A test for us all. The oldest Ways demanded a trial of virtue for your knight. Lord Nekomata of the Seelie Court demanded a test of your devotion to a human that had taken you from the Other Lands. And Her Majesty of the Seelie Court demanded a trial of us as well, and all our court- the right to exist on our own in this iron covered land, as our own court, no longer chained by the rules of either side. And we all succeeded.”

Kuroo turns to them from where he's knelt at Kenma's feet. “You're Fae? Both of you?”

Bokuto wraps an arm around his waist, and Keiji leans into him. “Yep! Both of us! Well, not always. I was a knight of the Seelie Court, and Akaashi was an unbound fae-touched human that both sides wanted. He refused to pledge to either of them, we fell in love, and I begged Her Majesty until she let me go as well, and those who followed me. We were given charge of the Golden Chapel until such time as someone worthy passed through our gates and passed the tests so that we could be together. Now we're free for real, and can make our own choices.” 

“For example,” Keiji says quietly, his smile soft, “we can grow old together, in Castle Fukurodani. Just as you two may.”

Kenma goes still, his hand on Kuroo's shoulder. “Nekomata let me go?”

“Kozume Kenma,” Bokuto says, his voice ringing with power that makes the humans in the room wince, “you are no longer bound to the Court or the Realm. You have no debt to pay, no duties to uphold. For maintaining your devotion to the one you've chosen, you are free to live your life as you choose.”

The words pass through and over them, rushing through the room and bouncing off the walls. Shackles of golden light appear around Kozume's wrists before shattering, and he staggers as the weight of magical claim lifts from him. Kuroo grabs him to steady him, eyes wide with alarm. “Kenma-!”

“I'm fine, Kuro,” Kenma says, blinking a few times and then staggering to sit back down in his chair. Kuroo leaps to his feet to help him, and Kenma looks between him and the interlopers.

“It's real,” Keiji promises him. “No tricks. The bargain has been upheld.”

Kenma lets out a shaky sigh of relief, taking Kuroo's hand and squeezing. Bokuto brings through Kuroo's shirts and armor, dropping it unceremoniously on Kenma's bed. Tsukishima sits down against a wall, cradling his head in his hands and obviously struggling to take it all in. Keiji knows how he feels. His whole body feels lighter, free. They've all been freed, now, they can all do as they wish without having to report to the Seelie Court or fear being taken by the Unseelie. They're _free_ , and have a whole new future before them.

“Well, now that that's done,” Bokuto says cheerfully, “we'll be taking our leave to go be domestic and enjoy the solstice and do a really ridiculous amount of kissing and-.”

“Bokuto, my lord, hush,” Keiji says, slapping a hand over his mouth. He's ignored, though Kenma's lips quiver with a smile and Kuroo actually grins. 

“We'll send the horses through a portal with Konoha,” Bokuto continues, wrapping his arm around Keiji's waist and pinning his arms down, long used to his tactics. “He's always really wanted to see Camelot!”

“Wait,” Kuroo blurts out, stepping forward. “Can- can we visit you? Will I be able to find Castle Fukurodani again?”

Everyone stops and stares, Kenma looking at him as if he's lost his mind and Bokuto's jaw dropping. 

“I'm sorry,” Keiji says after a moment, “you want to come _back_ to see us?”

“You have a beautiful home,” Kuroo says, his hand tight in Kenma's. “And I think I'd regret it, to lose people I could one day consider friends.”

Bokuto, wonderful man that he is, bursts into tears of happiness to have been called a friend.

oOo

The cherry tree and his gardener have vanished once Keiji and Koutarou return to the castle, to no one's surprise. Some of the fae, in-between like Keiji and Koutarou in their quest to be freed from each court, have already made their escape. Others have stayed in their newfound home. Konoha is not yet back from Camelot, Onaga and Washio are already out hunting, and Komi's humming as he packs his things to go adventuring to learn the art of being a bard. Keiji changes from his golden finery into a comfortable and elderly tunic with many repairs, and Koutarou sets out in the same. They take up their scythes from their places in the sheds, and join the farmers in the harvest. Time passes strangely here, in this land in-between, and Keiji works until his brow drips with sweat and his muscles ache, and smiles at the sunshine that feels new on his skin.

“Where should we go?” Koutarou asks him as they drink their water together under the shade of a tree at the edge of the fields. Koutarou beams at him, his eyes wheat-ripe and blazing with new hope and fire. Keiji loves him beyond words, this beautiful and magical man who so captivated him on first sight. “We have the whole world to see, after all! Venice, Paris, Camelot... the world is out there, and we can go now. Walk among the humans again, see everything. We could go to the farthest reaches of the Continent, see elephants and new magic, go to jousts and meet the Lorelai. We can go wherever you want, Keiji!”

“I don't know,” Keiji says, looking out over the fields. He smiles, looking back to his husband. “I look at you each day- I see all of the world in your hands.”

Koutarou tackles him to kiss him, because there is nothing else to do for it, and Keiji laughs with helpless joy against his lips. 

The sun shines bright overhead, golden wheat ripples in the wind, and the world spreads out and open, but Akaashi Keiji finds no reason to run. 

His world is here. He is in his worlds arms.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a number of retellings of "The Greene Knight", or "Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight", but the one I like the best is by Gerald Morris, who tells the story in his own unique take in "The Squire, His Knight, and His Lady". Please do give it a read, he's an excellent author and has a very good way of making the legends very real.
> 
> A few notes on the making of this fic. 
> 
> The Green Knight in this story is, of course, played by Bokuto in place of Bertilak. In the original work it's left unclear as to the nature of the Knight and his wife's existence- humans that are Fairy touched? Fae? Just straight up actual God? We just don't know. There's a lot of different opinions on the tale of the Green Knight, lots of them religious, but in this I chose not to go with the Christian version and instead went straight to pagan inspiration with Fae. (there's something very true-to-life there, let's not look at it too close.) Bokuto fits especially well because Bertilak is written as a well meaning and kind hearted man who's maybe not the brightest at first glance but has a lot of depth when you take a closer look.
> 
> This fic goes with the "Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight" telling in regards to Kenma, who's been drafted to play Lady Elfinhart. If not clear in the fic, he's human but lived in the world of the Fae following the death of his parents until he was an adult, when Nekomata (a fae lord) pulled Kuroo out of the mortal world to come collect him so he could live among his own people. It was love at first sight for both of them. 
> 
> Kuroo takes the role of Sir Gawain/Gwain/Gawayne etc., who has always been my favorite knight. He's a bit more tortured in this than I anticipated, but I feel like Kuroo was the best choice for the Knight. He is truly very kind, very noble, plays by the rules, and defends and teaches where he can. It's also an interesting choice, because Kuroo's name means "Iron Cheerfulness", and iron is a defense against fae. He is _literally_ made into iron, which is why Akaashi bleeds after kissing him. (Bokuto doesn't bleed, as Kuroo is giving him _Akaashi's_ kiss, not his own.)
> 
> Tsukishima is the squire, because of course he is. There is no squire in most tellings, but Tsukishima is the stand in for Terence in the Gerald Morris books. He is 50000% done with this Fae Bullshit at the end of this quest and just wants to sleep in his own bed for a month and maybe flirt with that cute serving boy he's friends with. 
> 
> And last, Akaashi Keiji. It's a common theme in Arthurian legends for the wife/daughter/lover etc of some character to come and "tempt" the visiting knight to make them prove their piety or chastity, and who better than the incomparably beautiful Akaashi? Akaashi isn't a passive observer, just like Lady Marion in the legend, and while this Akaashi is much more rooted in reality and doesn't spin magical sex chambers into existence to try and woo Kuroo, he does have to put in the effort to appease the curse. 
> 
> There's a lot more that I could talk about here (Iwaoi's unmentioned but definitely there backstory, the choice of the the Summer Solstice instead of the New Year for the year marker, courtly love vs true love etc) but please do hit me up on tumblr either @heronfem or @maneazu if you want to talk about this with me, and please do leave a comment telling me what you thought of this piece. I very much want to know what people thought of it.


End file.
